


Aftermath

by FromFanToStan



Series: First Times [10]
Category: One Direction (Band), zayn malik - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Feels, Light Smut, M/M, zarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 23:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18788413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromFanToStan/pseuds/FromFanToStan
Summary: In spite of how well he’s been doing, howonhe’s been on stage, how much he has smiled and run his hands over his body, knowing that every move will be on YouTube the next day, there for Zayn to see, if he looks, in spite of how much he’s convinced himself that he’sfine, he has the world and doesn’t need Zayn Malik, he bursts into tears as soon as he opens the Soundcloud app and hears the two guitar notes and Zayn singing “Don’t look around…."Harry deals with the aftermath of Zayn's departure from the band. Even though this chapter is full of angst, it leads back to chapter one, "Three Little Words," because if you're a Zarry you always have hopes for healing between these two.





	Aftermath

_The day after the official announcement of Zayn’s departure, Harry flies out to South Africa alone. He knows that it seems like he’s withdrawing from the band. He and Louis have been better since Zayn left, but both Niall and Liam are quiet around him. They don’t know what to say, he supposes. Anyway, he and Louis talked, and now he needs a day to think._

Harry and Louis are alone for a moment, because Harry has followed Louis into the smoking area at the back of the venue, where a ratty old couch, the pile of its gray corduroy worn smooth by the thousands of smokers who have parked on its seat cushions and blown smoke rings leaning against its back, makes a slightly disgusting place to have a heart to heart. 

Harry sits close to Louis. He needs the warmth, frankly, and he knows that only Louis really understands how he is feeling. Still, they don’t say anything for a long time.

“Hey, Lou.”

“Haz.”

“Do you think we made him leave?”

“Nobody makes Zayn do anything. I’d have thought after over four years you’d know that.”

“Yeah, but you know what I mean. Did we?”

“Harry, mate, you are going to tell yourself a story about what happened, and Zayn is going to have a different story, and I’ve got another story. We’re all the heroes in our stories, aren’t we, and it depends on who you ask, doesn’t it?” He levels an intensely blue stare at Harry before taking a deep drag of his cigarette.

Harry always admired how Louis could be so philosophical at the very times when you’d think he was going to be an asshole. For himself, he wants to be an asshole right now. He doesn’t want to look at anything from Zayn’s point of view.

“Do you know what really pisses me off, Lou?”

“I can probably make a list.”

“I really wanted to shag you. And now I know you won’t do it.”

Louis laughs, flashing his straight teeth, still white after all these years of smoking, the same teeth that nipped at Harry’s ear and made him shiver back in the X Factor days. Harry feels a rush of nostalgia for the boy he was and the way that boy followed Louis around like a puppy. 

"I'm sure that's what you're really pissed about."

“Ok, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, Lou. I miss Zayn. You miss him. But, maybe we should comfort each other?”

“Babe, I was taking the piss a bit, wasn’t I, with all that talk of a threesome? You and Zayn were wrapped up in your little bubble, and you were both leaving me out a bit. I just wanted in. I missed you both. Not that you’re not both gorgeous and fuckable, God knows. But it’d be different with all three of us. I might catch feels if you and I did anything.” 

He sees Harry’s look and adds, “No, really. I probably would. I’ve probably always had feelings for you, love. I know I did back then. But I’m not you, waving the pride flag around and draping yourself all over boys every time you have a drink. I can’t do it.”

He reaches over and takes Harry’s hand, threading their fingers together to take the sting out of his words; he rubs a thumb across Harry’s knuckles idly back and forth, back and forth.

“I don’t understand why not. I’m not gay. I’m just open-minded, and you are too.”

“But I’m not, really. It’s always been about you, babe. And a bit about Zayn too. We’re close, us three. We _were_ close, anyway.”

They fall silent, each thinking his own thoughts. After a few minutes, Louis squeezes Harry’s hand, tosses his cig down and grinds it out with a heel, and gets up to go.

“Don’t blame yourself, Hazza. Zayn was never going to make it through this tour. I knew he needed an excuse. Maybe I gave him one on purpose. Did you ever think about that?”

Harry doesn’t know if Louis is trying to make him feel better or admitting something. He sits on the ratty couch alone, looking out onto the acre of concrete that has been his view at every venue, no matter how beautiful the city or the landscape. Even though he just turned 21, he feels a hundred. His bones ache, and he doesn’t know if it’s exhaustion or loss.

 

He has a free day in Johannesburg and books a private tour to Pilanesberg National Park. He bounces along in the jeep with his guide, snapping pictures of everything, and he isn’t really ready when a massive rhino crosses in front of them. They stop, and for the first time in ages Harry has a be here now moment. He smells the rhino, hears its soft snorts, listens as the guide reminds him to stay in the jeep, to stay quiet, to let the rhino pass, to take pictures with his phone camera set to mute. His hands are shaking as he obeys. A rhino! He can’t wait to tell Zayn. 

Reality rushes back at him, and he’s not a guy in a jeep seeing something miraculous. He’s an exhausted boy band member who’s been touring for years and maybe just lost the love of his life.

They have a morning to sleep in after the two nights in Johannesburg, and for once Harry sleeps. He picks up his phone, noticing with surprise that it is almost noon and starts to scroll through his overnight texts. When he sees the name he breaks into a sweat.

_im sorry it was a mistake i didnt do it_

He texts back: _do what_

 _shahid leaked i wont mind_

In spite of how well he’s been doing, how _on_ he’s been on stage, how much he has smiled and run his hands over his body, knowing that every move will be on YouTube the next day, there for Zayn to see, if he looks, in spite of how much he’s convinced himself that he’s _fine_ , he has the world and doesn’t need Zayn Malik, he bursts into tears as soon as he opens the Soundcloud app and hears the two guitar notes and Zayn singing “Don’t look around….”

He knows that Zayn wrote it for _Four_ , and that it was hard for him when Liam and Louis rejected it out of hand, not even taking it to their songwriters. “It’s not right for us at the moment, Zayn,” Liam had said at the time. “We already have two ballads on the deluxe version. Maybe we could take it to the writers for the next album.”

Harry didn’t say anything that day. How could he? It was _his_ song. Zayn wrote it right after he got engaged to Perrie and Harry went a little...wild. He went a little wild and got papped snogging several girls and maybe being overly chummy with Grimmy. He couldn’t help it. 

Zayn had told him about the engagement, in front of all the boys, in the limo on the way to the _This Is Us_ premiere. Harry controlled himself. He managed a smile, and he murmured congratulations, noticing that Liam in particular was being especially effusive. Liam always did this--tried to make up for one of them being less than enthusiastic about whatever it was, whether their action figures or an interview or Zayn’s fucking engagement. Harry didn’t speak to Zayn unless he had to that night, but he acted, oh how he acted. He shucked and jived and posed for selfies with fans. He was the perfect pop star, the perfect heartthrob, the perfect lost boy. They were on a break, and Harry was broken.

They were on a break, a One Direction break anyway, which meant no touring and not too many events. Harry didn’t think about Zayn much. He was too busy clubbing and being sure that he was seen having a good time.

The day before they were due to meet up to resume the tour, Zayn texted him the file for “I Won’t Mind.” Against his better judgment, Harry had listened to it. He didn’t text Zayn back. He didn’t say anything when they met, just waited for Zayn to go out for a smoke after the mini-rehearsal/sound check in Adelaide, and then he followed him. He caught him before the heavy metal door to the outside swung open and pulled him back and through the nearest inside door, dropping to his knees, sucking Zayn off like he was starving, and in fact he was, he had been.

He listened avidly to the sounds he pulled out of Zayn, and when Zayn came, he scrambled up him to shove his tongue in Zayn’s mouth, to share the taste of Zayn’s come, to run his hands inside Zayn’s tee shirt and around his narrow waist to the smooth warm skin of his back. He had missed him so much. He didn’t care anymore.

“It’s promo, Haz. I mean, it’s more or less promo. We won’t ever get married, probably. We’re too young, and anyway….”

“Anyway there’s me, and you are always so faithful. Tell her, Zayn. Tell her that I’ll keep you strong. You won’t fuck any groupies because I’ll take care of you.”

He had meant it, and it was true the rest of that tour. Zayn tells Perrie, and she’s okay with it, and Harry gets his fill of Zayn for the first time.

**###**

So yeah, knowing “I Won’t Mind” is out in the world is rubbing salt over all of Harry’s open wounds. Harry is good at ignoring things, so he ignored how easy he was for Zayn, how all it took was a song for him, all it took was Zayn taking the time to write for him, and he was right back in his arms just like there was no engagement, just like he had Zayn’s heart. He even wrote a song for Zayn, but he never told him. He supposes he has that to be grateful for, because he’ll never speak to Zayn Malik again in his life. 

Harry never says it out loud, but alone in that hotel room, ugly crying, feeling like he will never be able to tell this secret to anyone, because who would he tell but Zayn, Harry admits to himself that he fell in love with Zayn, he really did, not just maybe, and it was probably back when they were first confessing their sins to each other, and that he loves him still and maybe will always love him.

It’s okay, though. He’s Harry Styles. If he can’t have Zayn, he can have almost anyone else, and he will.

Later, he’ll decide not to speak to Louis either, because Harry is the only one who can have beef with Zayn, and it’s not the thing to do it on Twitter. By the time the hiatus is official, Harry will look ahead and not back. They can call it whatever they like, and he’ll be there for any of the boys if they need him--except Zayn of course--but he’ll never go back to One Direction. He doesn’t plan ever to stay still enough for anyone or anything to latch onto him like this.

**Author's Note:**

> May the real men I have borrowed for fictional purposes find a way toward healing their relationship. I mean that with all my heart.


End file.
